


India Plan, version 3.0

by gala_apples



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Codependency, Established Relationship, Gen, Impact Play, M/M, Polyamory, Spanking, aromantic pansexual character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: Felix doesn’t want to date Wolfgang. He just wants to have sex with him, dom him, and spend every waking moment with him. Lucky for him, this is not the first complicated relationship Kala and Rajan have navigated.
Relationships: Felix Brenner/Wolfgang Bogdanow, Wolfgang Bogdanow/Kala Dandekar/Rajan Rasal
Comments: 9
Kudos: 107





	India Plan, version 3.0

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the impact play prompt for seasonofkink.
> 
> I have a close friend who's aro but sexual, and the amount of shit they get for it is astounding. I channeled some of that for this fic, so there's a moment or two of self depreciation about being aro-pan.

Felix is beginning to have a good life in Berlin, working alongside the head of a criminal empire who’s not a completely irredeemable piece of shit. Sebastian is by no stretch of the imagination a good man, but he’s not a monster, which makes him a cut above most of the other adult men Felix has worked for. He provides Felix with interesting jobs, jobs worth devoting time and thought to. And they come with excellent pay outs, which leaves Felix filling every area of his life with material goods and luxury experiences. Except without Wolfgang by his side it’s crap. It’s all crap. 

Felix was fucking terrified when Wolfgang went missing. To be contacted weeks later with a request for artillery and a promise to tell him some bizarre but truthful things was more than enough to get him on a plane to Italy. And after all the truths have been lanced out, Felix gets why Wolfgang isn’t coming back to Berlin. He even thinks he’s okay with it, until he gets an invitation to the wedding as some weird hybrid of Wolfgang’s plus one, a trusted ally of Nomi and Amanita’s, and a stranger they can’t help but love because they experience Wolfgang’s love. At the wedding it rapidly becomes clear it’s bullshit for Wolfie to lead his own life away from him. He’s genuinely pissed when Wolfgang shares a cab back to the hotel with Kala and Rajan, despite having nothing but good interactions with them. This separation is not okay.

Less than three weeks after the wedding Felix is landing at the Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport. He could text Wolfgang to come get him, or even just ask for the address and deliver himself, but he doesn’t. Reciprocation has never been a factor in Felix’s life. Everything he’s gotten he’s earned by being smarter, faster, more ruthless, or more resilient than anyone else. He doesn’t see how this situation is any different. He has to earn staying in Wolfgang’s life, has to steer the right course to get what he wants. Felix’s best bet in this moment is to ask Kala to pick him up.

He spends the drive back to their huge home studying Kala, trying to find all the facets Wolfie loves about her. Better exposure to Kala first than Rajan. At least Kala has the excuse of mental soul bond. Rajan is just a normal man Wolfgang left him for. But this plan of integrating himself will never work if he seems hostile, so he warms himself up on Kala’s accented English, her nervous giggle and her stories about her coworkers. By the time they’re driving up the winding driveway Felix finds himself liking Kala as much as he’s envious of her. She’s sweet, and polite, and such the polar opposite of him that it makes sense that Wolfgang would go for her as a change of pace. She’s India Plan, the ability to leave the shit of Berlin behind made flesh.

Rajan meets her by the door with a kiss. Of course he does. Rajan is her husband, all romantic gestures and real conversation and familial recognition. At the wedding they might have danced as a trio a few times, and as Felix learned over breakfast the next morning at a cafe near the hotel, they might have had a threesome, but he couldn’t help but notice every instance of public affection was for Rajan. It hits Felix with two rips of emotion at once, one distrusting something he’s never experienced and never can as an aromantic man, and another for the injustice of fairy tale love maybe being real, but not offered to Wolfgang.

“Felix,” Rajan exclaims, finally breaking away from his wife to acknowledge the elephant in the room. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you so soon after the wedding. What excellent news.”

Felix doesn’t trust this reaction either. Congeniality looks a lot weirder on men than women. Someone trying to be this genuine can only be hiding something, right?

“Yeah, well, nothing’s going on in Berlin right now, so I thought I’d come to see how Wolfie was settling in.” It’s not quite the truth. There’s a dozen things he could be doing for Sebastian right now. But none of it compares to the importance of claiming a stake in Wolfgang’s attentions.

“Fantastic. Simply fantastic.” Rajan claps his hands together and keeps them over his chest, and Felix is bitterly torn over the sensibility of his mistrust, and the annoying lofty hopes that this pep is real. 

“Wolfgang’s not home at the moment, Felix. I’m sure he would have been, had he known you were coming,” Kala tells him. From literally anyone he knows in Berlin it’d be a pointed comment about inviting himself into places he’s not wanted. From Kala that seems far less likely. “If you’d like, I can let him know he’s needed here, but he’ll likely panic and visit to assess the danger he’ll assume we’re under. If you’re looking to maintain the surprise, it’s best I not say anything.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” It’s not like the wait of an hour or two is going to kill him. Felix bought a one way ticket when the late night jealousies finally got to him too much. If he doesn’t have to go home, then it doesn’t matter when Wolfgang arrives.

And so they resort to small talk. Felix never did go for further education, but he could have a degree in small talk for the amount of people he gladhands on Sebastian’s behalf. Just like Kala in the car, Rajan sticks to pleasant stories about coworkers and family. Just like being in the car, Felix’s determination to maintain a friendly facade while secretly hating him for stealing Wolfie rapidly wanes under Rajan’s heartfelt nature. That in itself, however, brings up a whole new area of possibility. If Felix can safely like both of them, even a fraction of how much he likes Wolfgang, then maybe there are options here. Arrangements to be had.

When the front door opens, a tone rings out through the house. Felix wonders if it was Wolfgang who set that up, or one of the bodyguards. Rajan and Kala rise out of their chairs. Felix forces himself to stay out of the line of sight, just for a moment. He’s seen them together, of course, in Naples and in Paris, but he wants to know how it goes on Rasal-Dandekar home turf. 

As usual, Wolfgang gets the scraps. After all, they didn’t go looking to greet him, he’s coming to them. And Kala’s head is on Rajan’s shoulder, fingers entwined. The difference is, according to Wolfie, Kala is so vast and beautiful and perfect that her scraps of attention are another woman’s full platter. When Wolfgang steps in close enough Kala leans in to kiss him. She’s still holding hands with Rajan, but for the moments their lips are together, they’re each other’s entire universe. Watching it, Felix can easily believe the science fiction bullshit of them being telepathic, in each other’s minds.

Soul mates or fucking not though, Felix can only handle being unacknowledged for so long. 

“Hey! King of Berlin!”

It is downright gratifying to see Wolfgang break away from Kala and come bounding across the room to him, every inch an overexcited puppy. Felix matches his enthusiastic hug, even exceeds it. Who needs organs in their right places, when you could have your best friend squeezing you to death?

“Wasn’t expecting to see you for a while,” Wolfgang says when they’ve disengaged.

“I know, and isn’t that a load of shit. Come on now, show me the new digs.”

Wolfgang laughs and slings an arm around his shoulder, delight radiating off of him. He doesn’t ask any follow up questions about how long he might stay, or even if he got a hotel room somewhere. Good thing, seeing as the answers are ‘however long it takes to remind you I exist too’, and ‘hell no’.

Over the course of the evening Felix becomes certain that they’re now a solid trio, not just spokes sticking out from Kala in the centre. Rajan touches Wolfgang way too much for that. It settles Felix a little to see it. Or it would if he couldn’t also see how edgy Wolfgang is. A very particular type of edginess that Felix has dealt with over the years. He might owe Kala and Rajan the truth of they care for him, but they’re not doing the _right kind_ of touches. Or at least not all of them. Felix can’t even fairly say it’s their fault. No doubt Wolfgang’s trying to keep things simple for them. Well, times like these are what Felix exists for, to make sure Wolfgang gets everything he won’t demand the world give to him. If he has to shatter the peace to do it, so be it.

Felix stands up like he means to get another cup of sangria. Instead he stops where Wolfgang is half curled into Rajan on the love seat and weaves his fingers into his hair. The fact that Wolfgang can’t hide his moans at the first pull is just more proof he’s long gone. 

“How long’s it been since you got what you needed?” Felix needs Wolfgang to admit he needs it, that he wants this. Felix can’t do what he knows Wolfgang craves if he doesn’t get that _yes_.

Wolfgang stutters as he gets the words out, one of the easy tells he’s already sinking into subspace. He’s never been much of a talker in bed, and the more submissive he gets, the less he speaks. “Lo- long time.”

“What is this,” Kala asks, drawing up in her wicker chair. 

“I’m not even surprised you didn’t figure it out through your crazy telepathy stuff. I’m sure he tried to hide it. I bet he doesn’t want to want it from you. Lucky I’m here, and I don’t give a shit about anything except Wolfie.” So what if in the months between their first and second arrival in Paris, Wolfgang and Kala and Rajan sculpted a carefully unspoken path. Felix will just kick it all the fuck over. He’s always been that kind of man.

“What are you talking about, please,” Rajan says politely, like his boyfriend isn’t being manhandled by another man.

Felix would have thought it’d be obvious by now. His hand is still pulling Wolfgang’s hair as he makes no attempt to get free. Oh well. If Felix has to explain he will. “Our bloody enforcer has a sweet little sub side to him.”

At their continued blank looks he wonders if he got the word wrong in English. “Submissive?” Come on, where is the multi-national crew Felix can’t see when they need them. Surely at least one of them knows about the scene. “He wants to be hurt by someone he trusts.”

Felix wonders if Rajan can begin to parse the differences between getting hurt by family, by strangers, by people who want something from you, by lovers. He knows it took him a minute to get it, but it was so long ago now, when they were teenagers, that it seems like it’s never not been the way Wolfgang is. He hates that Kala and Rajan don’t already know this. If they don’t, it means Wolfgang hasn’t had the relief of subspace for months now. If he hasn’t, him going down so quick makes sense. It also means that he has to be the one to break it to Kala and Rajan. Wolfgang can’t fairly represent himself now, and Felix would never leave him unprotected.

“So I’m going to be the nasty German criminal who takes away your boyfriend and gives him what he needs, but I promise to return him right as rain later. Well, no. He’ll be bruised and maybe bloody.” Depends. Felix doesn’t have a totally clear outline of what he’ll do, just knows it’ll be whatever it’s best to do. “But his head will be screwed on better and that’s what you want.”

Rajan is looking at him from the arm of the couch, “We didn’t realize he already had a lover. One night trysts, yes. But from what we know of you, you were always there for him.”

Felix can’t help it, there’s a feeling that swells when Rajan implies that Wolfgang’s been reminiscing about him. Still, he has to correct Rajan on something. “It’s not quite like that. We’ve never been in love. Too busy loving each other like the families we never had. But fucking is just release of the body, am I right? And submission, it’s something he needs, like a diabetic needs insulin. And if he isn’t sourcing it himself I know when to step in with a injector.”

Like now, for example. Felix is staying as long as he can before he gets deported for not having a visa. He’ll have time to explain the nuances of BDSM later. Maybe even facilitate Wolfgang talking about what he needs, though fuck knows that’ll be like pulling teeth. Felix learned everything he knows to do hands on, Wolfgang never told him anything. But he can summarize fifteen years of sexual experience if that’s what Kala and Rajan need. He will, it’s the assistance they’ve earned for being genuinely smitten with his Wolfie. Later. Right now Wolfgang’s slipping through his tether, and Felix must catch him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, keeping a hold of Wolfgang’s hair. “First task. Show me which hallway takes us back to my guest room.” Felix can already imagine the shy smile blooming on Wolfgang’s face when he gets them there and Felix says job well done.

Except he doesn’t get the chance to stay on script because Kala interrupts. “No, go to our room. We’ll be there shortly.”

And yes, Felix came here to badger his way into their relationship -make Wolfgang the centre of the spokes- but he’s impressed with how little it takes. Felix knows there’s another poly triad in the cluster, maybe Kala’s getting poly negotiation tips from them. Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s stubbornness, but Kala won’t be counted out yet, and she’s bringing Rajan with her.

Felix begins to step backwards as he maintains his grip. Eventually the pull is enough to force Wolfgang into standing. “Change of plans, lovely. Go to the bedroom Kala’s thinking of.” After all, he doesn’t know if there’s a sex room and each of them have their own quarters, if they share one room, if there’s a marriage bed and Wolfgang close by, if the men of the house have their own spaces and Kala travels between them different nights. It wouldn’t do to give Wolfgang confusing orders.

It occurs to Felix as he walks the length of their home, Wolfgang strangely bent beside him so the pull can be maintained even as he leads, that his first set of instructions were probably the better ones. Felix brought half a suitcase of toys, desperately confident that he’d get Wolfgang to fall to the sheets with him at least once more. They’re all in his room of course. But even if he wanted to change orders once again, they don’t have the time for it. He can’t know everything Kala and Rajan are hastily discussing, but he doubts it’ll take long. He wants to get Wolfgang settled in the room before they get there. He’ll just have to improvise. 

It becomes immediately clear that this room is a master bedroom, vast enough for the three of them to each have their own dressing nook. The wide bed has maybe ten pillows strewn over the top of it, and there’s a luxurious four square cushion ottoman in the middle of the room that Felix has to assume has seen more than it’s fair share of sex. Everything is turquoise and gold and cream, and he bets it gleams when the sunlight streams in in the morning. It’s happy and light in a way that he’s never seen in Berlin, but has been engulfed with here. Felix understands India Plan better now than he ever has.

“Strip down, perfect boy, okay?”

Felix only likes gentle orders. Or maybe he likes that Wolfgang accepts only them. Try to domineer him, try to humiliate him, and it brings him right out of subspace; too reminiscent of shitty family and shitty memories. Even fully under he has too much self-preservation to allow it again. But orders that are tissue light, that are pillow soft, they work wonders.

Wolfgang, naked before him, is covered in scars. It’s not that Felix finds him all the more beautiful because of them, because he hates that Wolfgang has any of them. He does love, however, thinking about the retribution placed upon each inflicter. Wolfgang is his little warrior baby, always has been. Nothing sexier than a man who will destroy the people who cross him and his loved ones. 

“You’re beautiful, friend.” 

Wolfgang smiles fleetingly hearing the praise. By the time Wolfgang is red and marked all over, Felix is going to have him realizing he’s perfect. He’s going to make that smile stick. And an idea’s beginning to percolate about how to cause those marks. Given the givens, Felix isn’t surprised there’s no rack of sex toys. That said, Kala’s vanity has several brushes on it. Felix has made do with much worse than a wide wooden hairbrush.

They’ve progressed to proper positioning by the time Rajan and Kala enter the room. Felix knows they make one hell of a sight, Wolfgang naked and face down on the bedspread. He’s pretty sure the paddle-like brush laid down beside his hip is obscured by Wolfgang’s slightly spread legs, but it doesn’t take much imagination to figure out something’s about to happen to Wolfie’s luscious ass. 

Though his hypervigilance makes him doubt it, it’s possible they’ve been standing there for a hot minute. They didn’t knock before they came in. Fair, he supposes. It is their room. He wonders what they make of their boyfriend’s best friend kneading his ass softly, to draw up sensation and make the first strike a real contrast. Whatever the thought process, it can’t be too negative or they would be walking out. It’s as much permission as he needs, if he even needed that much. He keeps up the show, relishing the feeling of Wolfgang’s skin against him. It’s been too long.

“Should we get naked?” Kala asks. Felix can understand why she’d inquire, despite not being the one to get hands on. It can be awkward being the one in the room with a disproportionate amount of clothing on or off. He’s a little less obviously naked than Wolfgang on display, cock and ass covered under Wolfgang, but his shirt, jeans, and undies all are in a heap on the floor. It was another hard learned lesson, that all the leather and denim and pvc can be fun, but Wolfgang feels the most secure when he’s skin to skin.

Felix shrugs. “Up to you.” They’re not doing the domming, after all, so it matters less. “This doesn’t always turn into sex. But sometimes it does. I don’t really ritualize all of it. Some people do. Sometimes Wolfgang hooks up with people who do. But he doesn’t need it, and I suck at formality.”

“What _do_ you need?” Rajan asks.

Felix appreciates the sentiment, even if it doesn’t work in application. “You’re better off talking to me. My handsome Wolfie doesn’t like to talk during a scene, do you?”

Wolfgang shakes his head after a bit of hesitation, the wait proof enough that he doesn’t like to communicate while submissive. Fuck, will they have it so much easier than he did, being given wisdom rather than figuring out each scrap. Felix is a goddamn St. Nicolas, gifting out this knowledge.

“So what does he need, when you do this again?” Felix refuses to say if. Whether or not Rajan and Kala grow to like him, want him around even a fraction of the way they want their boyfriend, Felix can’t entertain the notion that soulmate Kala and gentle affectionate Rajan would deny Wolfgang something he needs. If he thinks they would, he’s obliged to hate them, and that just makes everything awkward. “Genuine compliments. Nothing extravagant, but something that you undeniably feel. Lies, even nice ones, come out in tone and body language, and he’s overly in tune with that shit when he’s under.” 

“So let him know he’s a beautiful brave hero.” Okay, Rajan is growing on him. 

“Also, and if this is a sticking point, get over it. Dunno how, but do. But also, pain.”

“Uh-” Rajan begins.

“What kind? How?” Kala takes the baton when Rajan stumbles. Or maybe it’s one of the others. She has a different glimmer in her eye for a second. Felix could consider that a violation of privacy, except it’s not like he hasn’t long since figured out a secret with Wolfgang is now a secret with eight people. Whether it’s a safe combo or sexual desires, what’s it really matter? 

“Hitting. Any kind, really. Spanking, face slapping, cock and ball punishment. Caning, paddling, random household objects. If it makes a noise when it makes contact, you’ll have a happy boy.”

“Couldn’t want more,” Rajan says, confidence restored now that he’s back on the familiar ground of causing bliss.

Seeing no need to wait as Kala pulls off her sundress and Rajan unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves, Felix finally brings down the hairbrush on Wolfgang’s ass. The crack of object against skin gets four separate reactions: Wolfgang jumping a bit before settling down for another strike, Felix smiling with the satisfaction of picking a good tool, Kala biting her lip, and Rajan leaning forward. Wolfgang’s reaction is by far the most important to him, but he likes India Plan’s movements too. He can work with wide eyed curiosity, turn it into a more appropriate lust.

By the fifth strike Wolfgang’s ass is starting to pinken. The colour runs in parallel with Rajan who is clearly blushing. It’s cute. Kala’s in mismatching but complimentary lacy panties and bra, and she’s beautiful. Felix gets why Wolfgang would want to spend his life between her legs, never complicating the simple femininity with all this shit. If you forget about the mental health deterioration, it’s the perfect plan. Still, despite the beauty, it’s Rajan’s muscles tensing in his bare crossed arms as he can’t look away that is really doing it for Felix.

“Rajan, come here.”

He stumbles over himself crossing to the bed, all coltish limbs and a slightly fearful expression. It won’t do at all, Felix is not that kind of dom. So he does what he can to settle the man; he pulls him into a kiss. After a moment of frozen inaction, Rajan’s lips spread open against his and Felix can taste the sangria on his tongue. Wolfgang doesn’t look up, isn’t in an investigatory kind of headspace right now, but with Rajan’s knees against his side he has to know what his boyfriend and best friend are doing. Kala, too, is more noticeable for what she doesn’t do; namely doesn’t command they stop or shake with anger. There’s resignation and captivation and lust radiating from her in equal amounts, and even if they’re reactions from halfway around the globe helping her cope, she’s still the one choosing to cope.

The kiss is more proof that Rajan isn’t the kind of man who initiates things in bed, but rather goes with the flow once prompted. Not great dom material, unless Felix can help him tap into something. 

“Grab his ass,” Felix prompts him.

“What?”

“Grab his ass, or spank him, or tell him something true, I don’t care. But touch him when he’s like this. You’ll never go back, I promise.”

Given all the options in the world, Felix is impressed that Rajan manages something a step up from the bottom. He can’t quite pull the hairbrush out of Felix’s hand and whale down on him, but he does dig his fingers into Wolfgang’s heated skin and squeeze. Wolfgang cants his ass back into the rough touch, and Rajan’s delighted gasp is Felix’s first sign that they’ll actually be able to do this for him once he’s forced back to Berlin. You don’t smile like that if you don’t want to keep doing something.

“How does he feel?”

“So nice,” Rajan answers, barely a stammer. Felix isn’t sure if dirty talk features in the India Plan bedroom, but he’s seen just over the course of the evening that Rajan is full of flowery loving phrases. It’s not that hard to transfer that to the sheets. “Wolfgang, your ass is so smooth and hot. Like freshly poured custard. I never want to stop touching it.”

Felix slides his hand overtop of where Rajan is still gripping Wolfgang. The man doesn’t have a single callous or scabby and scarred knuckle, a complete fuckin’ novelty in Felix’s world. “Should we show him how to make it hotter, Wolfie?”

Rhetorical, of course. Wolfie’s not going to _say_ yes. In subspace Wolfgang gives unconditional yeses, until something jars him utterly and then it’s over. Felix glides his hand closer to his own body, resting it only when it’s on Wolfgang’s bare cheek. He spanks his boy then, rapidfire hard blows. A bit pedestrian, even the toughest hand nothing compared to the discarded hairbrush, or the siren song of the bakers dozen of toys in his duffle in the guest room. Felix is a dom capable of grading his own work, and the comment handwritten in the margins after a spanking would easily be _show more creativity_. But Wolfgang doesn’t care, not if his ragged breathing can speak for him. And Rajan’s free hand has fallen to Felix’s shoulder, whether to brace himself against the weak kneed lustfulness or to feel the muscles move with each blow, Felix doesn’t know. 

“Feel him now. Is that the kind of hot you like?” Felix asks, all innocent manners.

It’s not the first threesome Felix has had with Wolfgang. BDSM parties frequently have masters of their kink demonstrating. Felix picks up what he can by watching, but he cares about Wolfgang too much to deny him hands on lessons when the need arises. And there’s been some alcohol soaked, EDM infused vanilla nights too. The difference is this the first time including people who will be around the next morning. Hell, from their perspective he’s no doubt the one walking in. It should change the rules, he knows. Make some things easier to manage, and others more difficult. But Felix has never given a fuck about rules, especially not if Wolfgang’s happy. He won’t act one iota different, or can’t.

Lucky him, inasmuch as he cares, that Rajan and Kala don’t seem to give a fuck about his style of etiquette. In fact, something in the faux-manners or the soft order or her husband’s hand stroking over the reddened skin of her boyfriend inspires Kala to finally get up from her perch on the chair of the vanity and cross to the bed. She joins Rajan in feeling up Wolfgang, and Felix lets out a slow sigh. He’s done good. There’s no one to brag to, no one to praise him for this -along with reciprocation, adulation is not a frequent event in his life- but seeing two hands on Wolfgang’s ass, Felix knows he’s done good. 

Kala goes somewhere in her head. Felix can see it. He wonders if it’s the hypervigilance, the years he steeped in the awful brew of microexpressions being the only sign before a family member or ally or friend blew up in rage, weapon in hand, or if Amanita and Mun and Daniela can all see it now too. He’s only beginning to wonder who she’s visiting when the answer is revealed to him. It’s clearly Wolfgang, and she’s gotten to feel his subspace, his desires, in way that Felix will never be able to. He’d be overcome with jealousy, except how can he hate it when it results in her trusting the situation enough to lift her tidily manicured hand and spank Wolfgang? It’s what he wants, isn’t it, for Wolfgang to have everything?

“Listen to that smack, Wolfie. That’s all you. You sound so good, just taking every strike.”

Wolfgang squirms on him lap in a way that seems distinctly contact seeking. It does wonders for Felix’s own cock, but he ignores it. Felix was telling the truth at the beginning of this: it’s not always about sex and orgasms. But it usually is. Wolfgang has a high sex drive, can make any action sensual without barely trying. Felix gets it, being one of those disappointments to the community grey-spec aros who’s not ace, one of those people ‘just looking for an excuse to be slutty’. Even if the beginning intent of a scene isn’t an orgasm, chances are at least one of them will get there. And by that Felix means he’ll come sometimes, if his sub does, because this is not about him.

Felix throws his leg over Wolfgang’s to trap him between his thighs, and begins the final set of spanks with the hairbrush. Kala matches him, pushing Wolfgang’s shoulders down into the mattress. Maybe it’s her own idea, maybe it’s Wolfgang’s, but in that case who could blame him? Anywhere he goes in Berlin people use insider info to edge out the competition and get theirs. He wants Wolfgang to get what he wants, whether that’s makeshift bondage or a freshly loaded bazooka.

Striking with the best of his force, the wooden paddle is leaving real marks. Wolfgang’s ass and thighs are covered in red rectangular shapes that will hopefully bruise up a little tomorrow. It’s not a scar Felix will have to hate, it’ll be a record of affection, as much love as Felix can provide.

The bed shifts as Rajan moves to the left edge, near to where his wife is holding down his boyfriend. It’s not the viewpoint Felix would pick -it’s not the viewpoint he _has_ picked, in the times a dom has expertly worked over Wolfgang in a new and exciting way- but each to their own. Felix keeps up the punishing rhythm, watching as Wolfgang’s legs begin to quiver. He gets twitchy when he starts to go into pain overload, whether there’s a sexual component or not. Wolfgang’s only a few strikes from coming, and Felix knows without being in his mind that every nerve in his body is shivering. 

And then it’s no strikes. Felix makes hard contact with Wolfgang, the lacquered handle of the hairbrush beginning to get slippery with sweat. Wolfie bucks then grinds his cock against Felix’s thigh. When he spills over onto Felix’s skin it’s as hot and slick as it ever is, a sense memory Felix never wants to lose. He tosses the brush to the side, its purpose fulfilled, and spends the next minute groping Wolfgang’s ass as roughly as he can. It pulls the orgasm out of his best friend as sharply as a garotte against the neck.

Wolfgang’s release lasts for a triumphantly long time. Felix can’t take all the credit, but he can take a lot, and it feels good. When it’s over he goes slack like a snapped rubber band, and Felix’s hands turn from brusque tools of orgasm to keeping Wolfgang on his lap and off the floor as gently as he can. Kala must feel the change of tension because she stands up, removing her weight from Wolfgang’s shoulders. 

Felix is expecting _what do we do now_ questions of aftercare. Of anyone he’s ever fucked or played with, this couple seems the most likely to naturally give copious aftercare. What he’s not expecting is for Rajan to not even bother asking, just flop back until his head hits the corner of one of the pillows and say to Wolfgang, “put your lovely head on my belly. I want to wipe the hair out of your stunning eyes.” 

Felix is impressed at how well Rajan’s natural sweetness gels with Wolfgang’s need for soft words. He acts on the order almost immediately. Wolfgang uses what little energy he has left to swing his body to the left and sort of drape himself awkwardly over Rajan’s right leg. Knowing Wolfgang’s likely about to fall asleep soon, Felix can’t let the positioning stand. Wolfie’s much less likely to have subdrop if he’s cuddled while he’s sleeping, a semi-common reaction in the community that Felix didn’t know until Mistress Kendra told him one teaching scene. For that to happen he has to be able to touch Wolfgang, and he can hardly mount the man while he’s still on top of Rajan. Felix adjusts his best friend until he’s perpendicular to Rajan, only his head on the flat plane of his stomach. Then he nestles behind Wolfgang, a classic big spoon to Wolfie’s little. His cheek against Rajan’s pelvis, Felix contemplates that if he moved an inch or two down, he’d have Rajan’s erection rubbing against his ear. It’s okay though. He’ll ignore it the way Wolfgang isn’t making a thing of the hard dick resting against his burning asscheeks. It’s only a second after Felix stakes his spot that Kala rounds the bed to crawl in just under the edge of the pillow line. She curls her arms around Wolfgang, tucks in forehead to throat and doesn’t say a single word about the remnants of jizz smearing across her pink panties.

Cynically, Felix thinks this is the best case scenario. It leaves them all with unresolved sexual tension, making the event linger. Kala and Rajan can’t tell themselves it was something that happened one crazy night if they continue to want it. It might not be tomorrow morning, but some day soon a round two will bubble up, and it’ll be much more likely to be a long term thing. Less cynically, Felix is just happy about being able to nap against his best friend’s back. It’s been far too long. He might not love Wolfgang, as incapable of showing any romantic gestures as a goat is incapable of doing algebra, but he does adore him. That’s always been enough for them, and even if these days it’s all about India Plan, Wolfgang has shown tonight that there’s always a place for Berlin History.


End file.
